Touched by the Gods
by ShaiGar
Summary: After filling out a Worm CYOA, a strange giant wakes up in Skyrim.
1. 1 Smeagol I

**Smeagol I**

Meg huffed, and stretched under the blankets.

The hour was late, and as usual her master was still awake, paying more attention to the noisy and warm lightbox than he was to her. Maybe if she farted.

Meg farted.

"Goddamn it Meg, that stinks."

She shouldn't have done that, that stench was terrible, but thankfully most of it was under the blankets where her master was, and her head was out in the cold air.

"You're not getting any more fish."

It was his own fault. He should have taken her for a walk.

"Go on, get outside."

Meg wasn't going anywhere, it's cold out of the blanket. She put her head back down and closed her eyes. Maybe if she dreams of running along the dunes again, he'll eventually turn the lightbox off.

...

"-want to be a ROB. "

SOMEONE NEW WAS IN HER MASTERS ROOM! NO-ONE WILL HURT HIM!

"Meg, sit. Stop barking!"

Like he could stop her. But Meg sat and raised her right paw, when she sits, she sometimes gets treats.

Her master spoke again "No, I was filling this out as a fantasy for being an SI."

The new voice spoke again "That's not how that works." There's no scent of any new humans in the room. Is the sound coming from the lightbox again? Megs master will probably be awake for more longers again. "An SI is just a character that dreams that it's real. If you become a Random Omnipotent Bastard, you're the one subjecting it to random encounters, creating the world it survives in, and the people it interacts with. It moves in the dream you create, while you punish and reward based on how it entertains you."

Yes. It's just the lightbox. Meg walked around in a circle, digging at the doona, trying to figure out how to get under the blankets again. Of course. Meg looked at her master and put her front paw down on his hand.

"Excuse me a moment-" her master said, but strangely, not to her. "Get of the doona, dumbass and I'll lift it up." What did he want? "Off the bed! Up!" Meg obediently jumped off the bed and returned to find the blankets had been lifted again. Putting her paw on his hand worked. It is magic.

"So? Was I right?" The voice laughed stupidly, like her master used to do when he pretended to be insane. "Did you want to be a ROB?"

"Well, I hadn't thought being a God was on the table. It does put me in less danger, even if the setup was for a Brute, Thinker, Tinker."

"Gods are just a Mortal conceit. To be a ROB, you need understanding, and to pass the challenges thrown at you."

If her master would not let her sleep, Meg would fart again.

"So, being a ROB isn- GODDAMNIT!"

Meg had farted again.


	2. 2 Ralof I

Ralof I

Ralof was tired. It had been a long hard war to come to such an ignominious end. Still, it wouldn't do to show cowardice in the face of Talos, nor the stoic Nord who had also been captured soon after the Imperial ambush. No, he could shore up the strangers courage with camaraderie before they faced their ends. No, not long now before they reached Helgen.

The horse-thief did not seem to have a warriors spirit, willing to go to Talos with his head held high- but even he had an honour of a sort, arguing on behalf of the stranger to live as well. As if the connection would not further damn him.

Not that Lokir was apparently willing to lump the unconscious naked giant of a man lying on the floor of the cart with the two non-stormcloaks, in with his fellow non-stormcloaks. The stranger was at least wearing clothes when he was apparently caught sneaking across the border from Riften into Falkreath Hold.

"Oww. Fuckerations, that fucking lying cunting cunt of a bastard shithead fucknugget-"

Well. Ralof certainly couldn't fault the man for the sentiments. Nor his vocabulary. As the man continued on Ralof considered that the giant was either a Sailor, or of the Bards College, for his gifted tongue and wide vocabulary of vulgarities.

"- the fuck am I?"

"In an Imperial prison wagon friend, a few miles from Helgen if I remember these roads rightly."

"Helgen? Fuck. Well, I'd say good morning Ralof, and that it's a pleasure to see you again, but I'm thinking you wouldn't remember me, and I'm not sure it's going to be a good morning."

Remember him? Ralof would certainly remember a giant mad enough to run around Skyrim in the nude.

"No, I can't say it will."

"So, I guess if he's Ralof, that'd make you High King Ulfric, and you would be Shor Himself, Talos, the Almighty Ysmir, and Shezzarine of Lorkhan. God of Mankind, and the currrent Dragonborn. I'm sorry for how these traitorous scum bastards have betrayed your Empire, sire."

What? Ralof was certain he called Ulfric the High King, those who do generally side with the Stormcloaks and Skyrim over the Elves and their Empire lackeys.

What? Wait, what did that madman say? The stranger- no, Ralof realised he shouldn't think like that. It's as he said, they're all Brothers now. He said that the quiet Nord is Shor himself? Wandering naked through the mountains must have left him delusional. The poor madman, the gods are cruel sometimes.

"Traitors?" His quiet brother in binds asked.

"Aye. These Thalmors' cum guzzling retards who dare to continue wearing your emblem, the sigil of the Dragonborn. They're all fucking traitors. You hear me wagon driver, you're a Thalmor-fucking traitor to your emperor. You khajiit raping, donkey cum guzzling, thundercunt!"

His new brother looked bemused, even Lokir was starting to to lose the tension his fear was building.

"I said 'shut up back there', or would you like me to shove this thick cudgel in your mouth so you can't talk?"

" _I'm not your mother last night!_ "

And of course, the wagoneer stopped the cart. Oh, well, madman or not, the giant is going to the gods with his spirit ablaze, even if his body will be battered and broken.

Looking up Ralof could see Ulfric sending him a questioning gaze. Even the Stupefied looking stranger was looking curious and amused. What could Jarl Ulfric want- Oh, right, the madman said he knew him.

"Madman, you said you knew me? I don't recall meeting anyone like you before"

"Aye, it's been years. I still remember you, and little Hadvar running around Riverwood playing Legionary. Does your sister still run the Mill?"

"Uhh, yes, yes she does. I'm sorry madman, I don't remember you."

The Wagoneer and a few guards dragged the madman out of the cart by his feet. "Alright you big stupid fucking cunt, you're going to get a beating that you'll hope will take you to Sovngarde."

Ralof considered this a pity, but if nothing else, the Madman had definitely earned this beating.

"Come then you vomit felching, elf fiddling, pissant. -"

 **Smack**

The Imperial wagoneer drove his cudgel straight into the madmans gut. It didn't even seem to budge him.

"-Let's see if you're even half as strong as your wife was when I rode her-"

 **Crack**

His next hit apparently went straight to his jaw. That's going to shut him up.

"- from Bruma to the Pale Pass with only half my dick in her ass. -"

Or, not apparently. Could anything actually shut this man up? The divines truly must love a madman.

 **Thump**

In Talos name, the Madman may have been getting a bit personal, but there's no need to hit a man there.

"-Hit me in the nuts one more time shit licker, and I'll kick your head off into the trees," The madman growled.

 **Thump**

As suddenly as the Imperial sadist moved to strike the madman in his balls again, the Giant moved, somehow knocking the wagoneer to the ground, and stomping on him with a sick squelch. While the guards moved from annoyed and watching, to grasping for their weapons, Madman hopped back onto the wagon and called out, "Hurry it up, we've got an execution to get to. Don't want to be all day."

Ralof looked at him surprised as the Madman looked back at him and asked "So, who wants to learn a song? Just sing along as you start to pick up the words.

" _You've got a friend in me.  
You've got a friend in me.  
When the road looks, rough ahead... _"


	3. 3 Hadvar I

**Hadvar I**

Well. That happened.

Hadvar had known what was coming. Civil Wars were cruel to turn brother against brother. Friend against friend. But he had known. He had known when he celebrated achieving his lifelong goal over a night of ale with his best friend and was told that _he_ was joining the Stormcloaks that, eventually it would come to this. Even if the Jarl had not yet assassinated the High King, he had known. Hearing it But knowing was not the same thing as seeing _his_ name on the list of traitors captured with the Jarl.

Knowing that it might one day come was not the same thing as having that day arrive.

Hadvar would weather this storm. He would weather this storm, and go and drink as much of Vilods sweet juniper mead as he could in one night in memory of _him_. He was a Legionnaire of the Empires Legions, and he would do his duty with as much compassion as could be allowed, with stoicism, and solemnity, and-

And what the hell?

Hadvar certainly hadn't expected the wagons to come in with singing, some song about friendship. Why the hell is _he_ singing about friendship? _He_ gave up friendship out of desire for revenge against the Thalmor bastards. _He_ gave up more than a decade of love.

Those _damned elves_.

Hadvar didn't realise he was standing there glowering at- the prisoners, until Captain Trebipta cleared her throat. Thank you Julitta.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm."

Then _he_ spoke. _He_ wouldn't know honour if _he_ was bound and gagged by it. Again.

"Ralof of Riverwood" Why did you do this? Damn you. Damn Ulfric. Damn those elves. _He_ wouldn't even look at Hadvar, he just moved to the side to stand next to _his_ hero.

"Wait. You, giant. Step forward. Who are you?"

"Hadvar? You don't recognise me either? First Ralof, now you. I knew you wouldn't, of course. It's been years since we played legionaire and ran around getting into scrapes together, and years since I left Riverwood."

"I'm sorry Kinsman. If we once knew each other, I can't remember you."

He snorted. Fuck you too, if what the Giant says is true, you didn't recognise him either. No, Hadvar would ignore him, and focus on the dignity of the moment. "Captain. What should we do? He's not on the list."

His Captain coldly replied, "Forget the list. He killed Raner, he goes to the block." Ah, well, murderers...

"Not a Stormcloak then? A murderer. I could at least have respected an enemy."

"I'm no murderer. He hit me in the balls. I warned him that if he did it again, I would kill him. He hit me in the balls again, so I killed him, if it makes you feel any better, it was definitely a warriors death." Ah, well, I can't begrudge a man that. "But you, Captain, all I've got to say to you wannabe, gonnabe, arsehole eating, thalmor sucking pranksta.. When the dragon shows up what the fuck you gonna do?"

Dragon? What is this madman on about? "I'm sorry Madman. At least you'll die here, in your homeland. Now, move along so we can continue the list. You, what is your name?"

The dark haired Nord just looked at him, "Erik, of Cloudwatch."

"This wasn't the best time to make the crossing. What're you doing in Skyrim?"

"I came to walk the seven thousand steps, as my father did before me."

"I'm sorry kinsman. At least you'll die here, in your homeland. Do you want your remains returned to Cyrodill?"

"No. Here will be fine."

As the priestess of Arkay was giving the captured soldiers their last rites the Madman burst out, "Shor's Balls, you mer worshipping weaklings. If you're going to send a man to Sovrngarde, don't make him wait all day. You. Headsman, I'll go first, take your sword and cut me down."

Captain Trebipta tried pushing him down with no success, "If you're going to go first, Giant, then kneel and get it over with."

"Like hell I will, weakling. Take your sword and stab me through the heart. I'll never kneel to the Usurpers Dogs. I'm unarmed, unarmoured, and standing right here, kill me like a Man, Imperial, if you can. If you can't, I'm going to stomp your face into the mud."

Julittas sword was out, and stabbed right through the mans chest and out his back, "Now, the rest of you will kneel before the block, or I'll have the archers cut you down where you stand," she yelled.

What was that roar? Some sort of mammoth? We'll have to close the gates and get the villagers inside after this, to keep their tenders away.

By the Divines, the giant was on his feet again and behind her. "I said kill me, not try and chestfuck me with your pig sticker. Try it again, Talos might let you kill me this time." Do the gods truly love madmen, to force this poor fool to bleed out. Julitta, you could have at least made the kill clean. "Come on you traitorous bitch, I've wanted to kill you since the moment you first opened your mouth. Either kill me, or I'll feed you to Alduin myself."

Hadvar thought to himself that he could see why Raner hit him in the balls if he just keeps carrying on like this.

Several more legionaries tried knocking him to his knees, and the Captain finally, and cleanly, cut straight through his neck. "Right. You've had your chance, I'm feeding you to the dragon." Of course he's still alive, but what fucking dragon is he on about?

 _ **"**_ _ **GOLZ MAH STRUN**_ _ **"**_


End file.
